La Felicita

I’ve debated about writing this post for a while now. However I’ve decided to listen to Hemingway’s advice to F. Scott Fitzgerald. In a letter from 1934 he said to his friend “All you need to do is write truly and not care about what the fate of it is. Go on and write.” I’m of course not comparing myself to these two greats in any way! But here goes.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that my life situation is very different from what it was a year ago and indeed it is. I don’t really know who reads this. I don’t know if you know me or not. Some of you are friends. Some of you are strangers. If you’re in the former group you will know me from various stages of life. You might only ever have known me as being married. Last Thursday I was doing a tour at Ostia Antica, a huge ruined ancient Roman town and one of my favourite places in the world. As I walked away from my clients in the heart of the archaeological site, I took my phone out of my bag, saw an email notification and read that I was now officially divorced. Just like that. A perfectly perfunctory email from GOV.UK to tell me my marriage had officially ended. Incidentally I’d also received an email to tell me to pay my Vodafone bill! I was shocked at my reaction (to the divorce…not the internet bill!) For a moment I felt like crying. I felt sadness for something that has ended. Something that at the beginning was full of hope and happiness. That at some point over the last 12 years lost it’s way, like a play that was begun with one ending in mind but at some point the actors changed and it became something else. The final curtain had been called.

Out of respect to others I don’t want to go in to the reasons why we decided to separate, all I’ll say is that life is too short to not be happy. I don’t mean just happy to get by, I mean the kind of happiness that fills your heart to the point where it nearly hurts. The day I drove back from one of my last radiotherapy appointments (a situation I wrote about which you can read here if you wish) I vowed not to forget that feeling. The feeling of surviving. The feeling of cheating death. I also vowed not to take things for granted and to make the most of life. It’s incredibly cheesy I know. At times in the intervening years I think I’d forgotten about that vow.

However, last Thursday the moment of sadness was short-lived. Back in December the decision we took was a mutual decision that we arrived at in the hope that it would allow both of us to be happy, as it was obvious we were no longer the ones doing that. So whilst there was sadness for what could have been there was very much happiness and gratitude for what is. I certainly have a huge amount to be grateful for. My family, my friends, my health and now someone else too. Over the last couple of months someone has brought me such happiness that I don’t even know where to begin. It’s that happiness I mentioned earlier, where your heart literally feels full to bursting. He’s called Leo. He’s Italian. He’s the most considerate, caring person I’ve ever met. He’ll hate reading this because he thinks he’s just normal. He’s far from normal. His generosity knows no bounds. He makes an incredible amount of effort with my loved ones despite the language barrier. He remembers the small things. He’s encouraging to the point where I feel I could do anything. But perhaps above all I feel myself. Completely, fully myself. It’s a feeling I don’t think I’ve really felt before and for that I’ll be forever grateful.

I feel like I’ve changed a lot in the last few months. Someone close to me recently quoted Bruce Lee and told me to “Be water.” I love this quote! I feel like I’ve learnt to be more like water. Constantly flowing, moving forward and adapting to overcome the next obstacle (and there have certainly been a few!). There are moments of serenity when the river is wide and meandering or there are moments of extreme strength when it crashes down rock faces from dizzying heights. At the moment, I’m at the part of the river where there are still, clear pools. When I pause to look in that calm pool, I recognise the happy face looking back at me and I’m excited for what the rest of the river’s journey holds.